The Boy Who Liked
by Black Vengeance
Summary: Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts has begun. There are two new teachers, Voldemort is building an army using a school for the dark arts, romance is in the air and there's a spy at Hogwarts. But there's a few people missing... HG HrR
1. What Friends Are For

**A/N:** Well, after a long break from I'm back! This story has already been submitted on SIYE and FA, but now you can see it here too. This is H/G, Hr/R and RL/NT as far as I can see at the moment. Also, the name 'Zephyr' for a broomstick was the idea of **Alshain**, on a fantatsic thread about broomstick names at Fiction Alley Park. Therefore, no credit for the name of the broomstick goes to me.

**Summary: **Harry's sixth year has finally begun, and with it are a few changes: there are two new members of staff, Harry starts to develop feelings for a certain someone, Ron and Hermione finally get their act together, there's a new Minister for Magic and Malfoy is no longer attending Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, Voldemort - inspired by the DA - is building up his own army using a school for the dark arts. Harry takes it upon himself to find this school before it's too late, but there are few questions he still needs to answer, like where is the Hogwarts teacher that left and what is he doing? And who is spying for Voldemort at Hogwarts? And, perhaps the most important question of all: how do you tell a girl that you like her?

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling is the puppeteer, I've simply hired the puppets!

* * *

Once again, fifteen-year-old Harry Potter woke from his dream screaming. He had been dreaming of Sirius again, remembering the day he died. It had all been Harry's fault of course. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop from blaming himself. 

Time and time again Harry had gone over the events in his head, wondering how he could have done things differently and prevented Sirius' death. If only he hadn't let himself get so close to Sirius, or if he had remembered the two-way mirror Sirius had given him, or that there _was_ in fact a member of the Order still at Hogwarts, or if he had listened to Hermione's warning... the possibilities were endless.

Harry shook himself. He had to stop thinking of Sirius, he knew he did, but it was just so hard...

Trying desperately not to think of his late godfather, Harry climbed out of his bed in the small room he had hired in the Leaky Cauldron, where he had been staying for several days now. He knew he was supposed to stay at the Dursleys', where his mother's blood would protect him from Voldemort, but it was just not possible.

It had all started about a week ago, when a documentary about escaped prisoners had come on TV. Harry happened to have been in the room when it came on, and couldn't help hearing that it had mentioned Sirius. It reported that he was a madman right up until his death, and the programme had interviewed families of those he had 'killed' fifteen years ago. Each of them had insulted Sirius, said that they were glad he was dead and that he should have been hanged for his crime in the first place. As if this hadn't got Harry angry enough, Uncle Vernon then took it into his own hands to judge Sirius.

"I knew he was filth the moment I set eyes on him," he had said, with Aunt Petunia nodding solemnly next to him. "What with that messy hair and that ugly face – it was always obvious that he was no good. Just like that Potter your sister married, Petunia," he had continued, as though Harry weren't there. "That Potter was trouble. He always messed up his hair and he always had that stupid smirk on his face. I suppose it's to be expected, though, eh, Petunia? No one else would marry your no good sister, and what with them both being _that kind -_"

Of course he had got no further. Harry, who had been sitting in the armchair, attempting to control his temper as he listened to both the angry voices on the television and Uncle Vernon's voice, had heard too much. It was hard enough reading the _Daily Prophet_'s no good lies about Sirius, but hearing them from the Dursleys was somehow worse. Furiously, he rose to stand in front of him, pulling his wand out, aiming at Uncle Vernon's chest.

"You utter one more word about my parents or Sirius -" he threatened, "- and that will be the last thing you ever say!"

However, he hadn't stayed around to find out if Uncle Vernon had any more insults up his sleeve. Instead, he ran to his room, shoved everything he owned into his trunk, shut a squawking Hedwig into her cage and made for the front door. Of course the Dursleys hadn't protested, and Harry had simply stuck out his wand arm and jumped on the Knight Bus there and then. 

The thought had crossed his mind at the time that he could go to the Burrow, home of his best friend Ron Weasley. But he knew immediately that this wouldn't work. He wasn't in the mood for company, and all he wanted to do was dwell on Sirius. He didn't want anyone acting weirdly around him. Besides, he would be protected at The Leaky Cauldron anyway – there were so many wizards around, Voldemort would not be stupid enough to attack.

As he walked down the stairs into the pub, he examined his cooked breakfast, pushing his food around with his fork. He hadn't felt like eating in a while now – not since he had come home from Hogwarts and had had enough time to himself to really think about Sirius' death, to really mourn him. However, Harry was saved the trouble of telling Tom, the toothless Landlord, that he really wasn't that hungry, by the arrival of Hedwig, who was carrying a couple of letters in her beak. With a sigh, Harry took them from her and began to read.

_Harry,_ (the first letter said, in Hermione's neat handwriting)

_WHY HAVEN'T YOU REPLIED TO ANY OF OUR LETTERS? We understand that you need time to mourn, Harry, really we do, but that doesn't mean you can't talk to us. Ron is shouting at me to tell you that his dad is going to drive all the way to your aunt and uncle's to pick you up and bring you back with him if you don't reply to this letter._

_Anyway, I got here about a week ago and it's been madness ever since. Ron's dad's working overtime at the Ministry so I haven't seen him much, apparently Voldemort is really getting powerful. Ron's mum and Fred and George have been arguing constantly – Fred and George say business is booming and they want to move into this flat in Muggle London, but Ron's mum says that's too far away - she wants all the family where she can keep an eye on them now that Voldemort's back._

_Are you worried about our OWL results? I am. I just don't know what I'll do if I don't get good enough results to take my subjects up to NEWT level. Of course I'm not expecting much from History of Magic or Astronomy - needless to say I was a little distracted in those exams!_

Harry paused, biting his lip with guilt. The reason that Hermione was not expecting much from her History of Magic OWL was because he had collapsed in the middle of it. Knowing Hermione, she would be fretting about not having enough time to check through her answers. _If only I'd closed my mind like Dumbledore said_, he thought bitterly. If he had only been able to resist Snape's jeering, not only would his friends have been able to complete their History of Magic paper, but Sirius might still be alive too.

Attempting to rescue himself from the dangerous waters that came from thinking about Sirius, Harry continued to read the letter.

_Ron's telling me off now; he says I shouldn't be depressing you with talk of OWLs. _

_I'd better go, please reply to this owl – tell us what you're up to, how you are, what OWLs you're hoping for..._

_Hermione and Ron_

_P.S. Hedwig is worried about you, too - she flew over here and didn't stop nipping us until we wrote to you. I think the cuts on my fingers are even worse than they were last year, if that's possible! If your owl has sensed something's wrong, Harry, there must be something really wrong. Please don't let yourself get too down._

Harry sighed, realising that he had better write a quick reply to stop them from going to the Dursleys'. He wished that they would stay out of his business and let him get over Sirius' death in his own time, but clearly this wasn't about to happen. He grabbed his quill from his pocket and began to write on the back of the parchment.

_Ron and Hermione,_

_Thanks for your letters, but I really want to be alone right now, which is why I'm not replying. I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express._

_Harry_

_P.S. I'm not at Privet Drive anymore so it's useless sending anyone down to get me._

He then gave the letter to Hedwig, who had been nibbling at his breakfast, watching as she flew away with it and wondering what their reaction would be. It was then that he remembered, however, that there had been another letter with Ron and Hermione's. Curiously, he opened it up and found that it was a letter from Ginny.

_Harry,_

_I'm not as stupid as Ron and Hermione. I'm not buying your 'I'm okay, honestly' act. I'm also not letting you slip into a whirl of depression and non-stop mourning - you're going to get addicted to self-pity if you're not careful. You need to forget about Sirius' death, realise that he's dead and there's nothing you can do about it. What good is dwelling on his death going to do anyone?_

_The fact of the matter is that it is up to you to save the world. It's obvious - you're the only one who's ever survived the killing curse. So if you don't pull yourself out of this trance, the whole of the wizarding world will pay the price with their lives. Is that what you want? Do you want to see the satisfied look on Malfoy's face when You Know Who makes himself Minister for Magic and you've done nothing to stop him? Do you really think that would make Sirius proud? Would that really make your parents proud?_

_I'm sorry for your loss, I really am, but I realise that Sirius would not want you to be dwelling on his death like this - Sirius would tell you to get out there and defeat You Know Who once and for all, and _then _you can finish mourning for him. Besides, Sirius died trying to save you - he wouldn't have been there if he wasn't trying to save your life. So if you go and let You Know Who kill you, he's pretty much died in vain._

_Please listen to what I'm saying. If you don't, I'll send a Bat Bogey Hex with my next letter - my speciality!_

_Ginny_

_P.S. Mum wants to throw you a party for your birthday so you'd better show yourself soon or she'll be really worried and upset. I know you wouldn't want that after all she's done for you. You're like a son to her, Harry._

Harry abruptly dropped the letter, letting it fall onto his breakfast plate. He didn't like the guilt Ginny was putting on him. She seemed to understand him so well, to understand that he wanted to be alone, but if she understood him so well, why did she try to guilt him into showing himself at the Burrow? Yet he knew she was right and he was grateful that at least one person wasn't going to cower under the fear of his temper - he admired her honesty. He wondered how someone he had been friends with for so little time could know him that well - better, in fact, than two people who had known him for the best part of five years.

Re-reading the letter, he caught his eye on the words '_it is up to you to save the world_'. He was suddenly unwillingly reminded of the prophecy, the prophecy that predicted that he would either have to kill the most feared wizard or be killed by him, therefore allowing him to kill the rest of the wizarding world. He sighed. Life clearly didn't like him.

Picking up the letter and scraping off the bits of breakfast, he shoved it in his pocket and made his way out of The Leaky Cauldron and into the busy streets of Diagon Alley. He already knew the place pretty well after his third year so he knew exactly what he wanted to do and what to spend his money on.

He walked down the cobbled streets, attempting to keep his head down so that he wouldn't be spotted by anyone who might know him, or anyone who might have read the _Daily Prophet_ last summer. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, least of all those who just wanted to hurl insults at him.

Soon he arrived at Quality Quidditch Supplies, his favourite shop. He noticed a new broom in the window, a Jet 5000 by the looks of it, which claimed to be far better than any broom in the Nimbus series and better even than the Firebolt. While many witches and wizards were queuing up to buy it, Harry found that for the first time ever, he wasn't interested in the latest broom. His Firebolt had been a gift from Sirius and however old and battered it got, he always wanted to use it, as a reminder of his godfather. Since Sirius was no longer alive, he had to treasure every memory he had of him and if that meant using his Firebolt for the rest of his life, then that was what he would do.

He walked inside, pushing through the crowds, and walked into a lonely corner of the shop where a Firebolt stood, unwanted and unnoticed. Harry focused his attention on the various accessories that could be bought for it, including 'a flag that will announce to all which team you support', as the caption beneath it ran. But this could not interest Harry. Sirius' death had showed him that there were more important things in life than Quidditch.

"Hi, Harry," came a soft female voice.

Harry jumped. He had been in a daze and had not expected to be approached by anyone or noticed next to the big crowd of people. Turning, he saw Cho Chang standing there, a sympathetic smile on her face. Trying not to remember the bad experiences he had with her over the past year, Harry smiled back, finding that he was surprisingly glad to find a friendly face.

"Hi," he muttered back, unsure of what to say to an ex-girlfriend, having never been in a relationship before.

"D'you want to grab a coffee?" she asked. "As friends, I mean," she added hastily when Harry looked unsure.

Smiling, Harry nodded, feeling relief that Cho just wanted to talk as friends. He still felt slightly used by her, though he found he had more pressing matters to be thinking about than holding a grudge against her. Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he found himself hoping that she didn't cry. If there was one thing he couldn't deal with right now, it was the emotions of others. His own were enough to think about while he mourned.

Pushing past the crowds, Cho guided Harry towards Wizbucks, a Muggle-themed coffee shop that was near to Quality Quidditch Supplies. From what Harry understood, Wizbucks was based on the Muggle coffee shop called Starbucks and it was popular amongst wizards who wanted to go to a Muggle café whilst still being able to talk about and practise magic openly.

An irritated-looking witch stood behind the counter, attempting to make and take orders from a long queue of customers. "The house elves are on strike," she explained to Harry and Cho as they ordered.

Dutifully, Harry paid for the order and took the tray towards a small table on the first level that Cho had found. As they sat down, Harry was uncomfortably aware of the tensioned silence, both unsure of how to start the conversation.

"I heard about your godfather," Cho said finally, breaking the silence.

Unsure of what to say to this, Harry simply nodded, answering, "Yeah."

"I'm really sorry," Cho continued. "He must have meant a lot to you."

Again, Harry nodded.

The silence returned while Harry stared determinedly at his coffee cup, picking at his chocolate muffin with his hands.

Finally, Cho sighed. "Look, Harry, I'm really sorry about how we left things," she said. "I - I realise I wasn't the world's best girlfriend, and though I really liked you, I s'pose I was sort of hoping that you would talk to me about Cedric. I - I just - I wanted to dwell on his death and no one else understood or even admitted that he'd been killed by - by You Know Who."

"That's okay," Harry replied sheepishly. "I understand."

And he did. Sirius' death had showed him just how Cho must have felt when Cedric had died: he wanted to dwell on the death, to remember his godfather for as long as possible, yet very few people were willing to admit the real circumstances of his death, let alone his innocence.

"You know," Cho began, pushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, "I understand how you must be feeling. But - but I think you should know that you can't dwell on the death for too long. Cedric's death has showed me that. You can't let life pass you by just because you lost someone."

Harry was surprised at how well Cho knew what he was feeling. The last person he expected sympathy from was an ex-girlfriend with whom he had ended things on bad terms. Deciding that she would understand, he decided to tell her exactly how difficult it was.

"I s'pose you're right," he said, taking a gulp of his coffee. "But it's - it's so hard. All I want to do is remember Sirius. I mean, first I lost my parents and then I saw Cedric die and now Sirius - it just feels so... so..."

"Harsh? Unfair?" Cho supplied. She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know what you mean. But life's not going to get any better if you're dwelling on him all the time is it?"

Harry supposed she was right. After all, he hardly had a right to complain about how miserable life was if he didn't make an effort to make it a bit happier.

"Thanks," he said finally.

Cho shrugged. "Isn't that what friends are for?" she said kindly.


	2. Of Snape and Sirius

It was a dark, dank room that Harry stepped into several hours later. It was an old room in the Leaky Cauldron, one that Tom had informed Harry was rarely used anymore - it was number thirteen, and apparently wizards were just as superstitious about this number as Muggles. However, Harry felt that had the room been any nicer, he would still have entered with the same trepidation with which he entered the room now, for it was the first time that he had _really_ faced Severus Snape since he had stumbled upon the Potions Master's worst memory.

Of course Harry felt that once Dumbledore had actually come to the Leaky Cauldron himself to persuade him that Occlumency was worth starting again, and that he should give Snape another chance, he was hardly able to decline the offer. "He is not as bad as you like to think," he remembered the elderly headmaster saying. So that had been it. Harry had had no choice after that - he didn't want to let Dumbledore down, and he didn't want to be the cause of anyone else's death because he was unable to shut off the flow of unwanted thoughts. Unfortunately, Dumbledore himself was simply too busy with his work for the Order to teach Harry Occlumency himself, meaning that Snape was the only candidate left. Not that it had meant Harry was prepared to be alone in a room with Snape, allowing him to taunt him as he had last year. Fortunately, Dumbledore, realising the tension between the two, had arranged for Remus Lupin to be there too.

Looking around the room, Harry found it easy to spot the two old schoolmates, despite the darkness of the room. There was a small, dusty table near a blacked out window, at which Snape and Lupin were sitting. Lupin, the only remaining loyal marauder, seemed to have aged years in the week or so that it had been since Harry had last seen him at King's Cross station. Clearly the death of his best friend had really taken its toll on him. Snape, meanwhile, had not changed a bit. From the sly smile on his face, to the greasy black hair, he looked just as Harry remembered him.

"Ah, hello Harry," Lupin said with a tired smile, pointing towards the empty chair opposite Snape.

"Glad you could join us at last, Potter," Snape scorned. "Ten minutes late, I see. That's just the sort of thing your father would have done - he too assumed that everyone would put everything on hold for him, would wait for him while he arrogantly took his time."

Harry felt anger boil up inside him. While he had realised a few months ago that Snape had always been right about his father's arrogance, the comments angered him because he knew that his dad had changed, had become a better person, and he wished that his dad could be remembered that way, instead of as the arrogant schoolboy he had once been. He was about to retort, however, when Lupin stepped in for him.

"Severus, please, this is Harry you're dealing with, not James," he said quietly and patiently. "Harry is nothing like James was at his age."

Snape looked as though he thought differently, but didn't protest. Instead, he stared at Harry, still sneering, and shouted, "One, two, three, _Legilmens_!"

Before Harry had had time to react, he saw various moments in his life flash past him - he could see a black, shaggy dog in the alley way by Magnolia Crescent; Mr Weasley telling him not to go looking for Sirius, who had been a wanted criminal at the time; he saw a big black dog watch him play Quidditch; the day he learned that Sirius had been a friend of his parents'; he saw the state of the boys' bedroom after Sirius had attacked, looking for Peter Pettigrew, then disguised as Ron's rat, Scabbers; the big black dog dragging Ron under the Whomping Willow; he saw Sirius about to kill Peter Pettigrew; Sirius riding Buckbeak and Sirius in the cave in Hogsmeade - Harry felt tears burn his eyes - "No!" he shouted. "NO! STOP IT!" He refused to watch Sirius singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs', knowing where it would all lead. By now tears were falling too fast for Harry to stop them. Why was Snape doing this? Why was he making him relive such painful memories?

"STOP IT!" he shouted finally as the memories flashed before his eyes.

All of sudden, they had stopped, Harry's head was clear and Snape was lying on the floor, apparently having fallen off his chair.

"Wandless magic," Snape noted dryly as he sat back down on his chair again.

"What are you trying to do?" Harry shouted angrily. He would not let Snape get away with doing this to him. And why was Lupin not doing anything? Wasn't he supposed to be here to stop this sort of thing?

"The Dark Lord will not stop simply because you scream and cry like a baby, Potter."

Harry turned to Lupin, who nodded gravely. "He's right, Harry. You have to get used to reliving painful memories unless you can get the hang of Occlumency."

Staring angrily from Lupin to Snape, Harry moodily waited until Snape started again. Once again, he saw various scenes flash before his eyes. He concentrated hard. "No," he said firmly. "NO!" he shouted loudly. It seemed to him to be much like fighting the Imperius Curse; it was simply a matter of him thinking consciously about what was happening and telling himself that he did not want it to happen. Finally, he mustered the strength to use a stinging hex, which sent Snape flying off his seat.

As the Potions Master sat back down on his chair, he stared at Harry for a while before saying, "Good, Potter. Good."

Lupin smiled proudly at Harry. "Well done, Harry," he said encouragingly.

"Does that mean I can stop having these stupid lessons?" Harry asked grouchily.

Snape glared at him. "Too good for Occlumency lessons now, are we?" he snapped. "I too have better things to do than spend my afternoons with you, Potter, but I, unlike you, realise the good it will do. I realise more than you the dangers of you not learning Occlumency."

Harry glowered back at him. "Better things?" he asked. "Like what? Following your precious Voldemort - sorry that's the _Dark Lord_ to you, isn't it? I forgot that Death Eaters like to call him that."

Snape snapped to his feet, towering above Harry furiously. "How _dare_ you talk to me like that, you insolent, arrogant little boy, when I have willingly given up my time for you!" He paused. "Dumbledore will have to be informed, of course. He'll be very disappointed. His favourite little student has _failed_ at Occlumency, and I shouldn't think you've done much better at your Potions OWL either!"

Then, with a sweep of his cloak, he left the room.

Harry turned to Lupin, who looked slightly disappointed. "What?" Harry cried. "He provoked me!"

Lupin, however, simply shook his head. "Harry, it's very hard for Snape to forget what your dad did to him, and since your dad's no longer with us, he's left only to take it out on you. You have to understand that he's not really a cruel man, he's just bearing a grudge, and despite how much he provokes you, you should ignore his taunts. Occlumency is more important than your pride and your temper."

When Harry glared at him, he simply finished with, "I'll see if I can schedule another lesson for you."

Once Lupin had left the room, Harry stormed out after him, pushing past the various members of the wizarding community enjoying a drink in the Leaky Cauldron, and slumped down onto a table in Florean Fortescue's, where Florean gave him a free ice cream because he looked so miserable.

"Those friends of yours were in here earlier," he informed Harry. "When I told them you were staying in the Leaky Cauldron, they left immediately and started looking for you."

Harry groaned. "What did you tell them that for?" he moaned. "I just want some freedom and some space - I want to be away from them for a while."

Florean looked a little disheartened by Harry's angry tone, but continued anyway. "Well, they seemed to think it important to find you. Said something about you being in danger and being a threat to yourself. Anyway, I'd better get back to the other customers."

Harry sighed and let his face fall into his hands. He needed to deal with Sirius' death and with the prophecy, and he didn't feel able to do that with others around. He considered telling them about the prophecy, thinking perhaps it would be easier if they knew. But as soon as this idea had entered his head, he dismissed it. He knew exactly what Ron and Hermione would do if he told them: Ron would inevitably look aghast, and Harry could imagine his freckled face saying, "But - but - that can't mean that _you_ have to kill You Know Who, can it? I mean, he's really strong and not even Dumbledore's been able to defeat him..." He would proceed to give him worried looks for the rest of the week. Hermione would also look aghast; shocked that Harry was the only one able to kill Voldemort. Then, however, she would come to her senses: "Well, I suppose it was inevitable really," Harry imagined his bushy-haired friend saying, "I mean, you're the only one that's ever survived the killing curse, and you're the only one who's encountered him and lived." She would then insist that Harry train for battle, not giving him a moments rest, not even for homework.

A sudden thought occurred to Harry. _But I'm not the only one who's encountered him and lived..._ No, there was one other, one who had been possessed by Voldemort in her first year and still survived.

"Ginny!" he shouted triumphantly.

He would have to talk to her. She was the only one that would understand.

He approached Florean Fortescue, who was handing out ice creams. "Florean," he said eagerly, "when you said my friends were looking for me, which friends did you mean?"

Florean looked thoughtful. "Well there was that girl with the bushy hair, that boy with the red-hair and a girl with red-hair, who I assume was his sister."

"Brilliant!" Harry cried. "Do you know where they went?"

Florean shook his head. "Sorry, mate, can't help you there."

So Harry ran down Diagon Alley, pushing past various wizards and witches, who grunted about the lack of manners young wizards had today, staring through the windows of any shop he thought they might be in. Just as he was about to give up, he saw the three of them making their way out of Gringotts, moneybags jangling.

Harry stared at his friends, suddenly unsure of how to greet them. He wasn't sure whether he should be angry with them for not leaving him alone like he'd asked, or whether he should be happy to see them. However, they seemed to make this decision for him.

"Harry!" Hermione ran to him and gave him a hug, taking Harry by surprise, before she pulled back and apologised nervously, as though afraid Harry would shout at her.

"Harry, mate, great to see you," Ron said slightly apprehensively.

"Hi, Harry," Ginny said simply, a smile on her face, none of the nervousness present in Ron and Hermione's greetings evident in her manner.

Realising that he would not be able to talk to Ginny without arousing the suspicion of Ron and Hermione, Harry pushed the prophecy to the back of his mind and smiled back in greeting.

"Harry, where've you been? We've been worried sick!" Hermione rambled. "We went to your aunt and uncle's this morning to pick you up, but you weren't there - we've been worried sick!"

"But then Dumbledore said that _he_ knew where you were," Ron continued, "and that you'd tell us in your own time. So we just came here to buy Ginny some new robes - mum's been too busy with you-know-what, and then Florean Fortescue said you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron."

The four of them walked back to the Leaky Cauldron as they chatted, finally sitting down in Harry's room, as he told them about his latest Occlumency lesson.

"I still don't think we can trust him," Ron muttered. "How do we know he's not still a Death Eater?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ronald! If Dumbledore trusts him, I think we can. Even _Moody_ must trust him enough to let him into the Order, and we all know Moody doesn't exactly hand out his trust like sweets."

Harry thoughtfully recalled something Sirius had once said about his brother. "Sirius once said something - he was talking about his brother, but it makes perfect sense," he said, looking as though he had just found a missing piece to a puzzle. "He said that you can't just hand in your notice to Voldemort -" (Ron and Ginny winced) "- he said it's a lifetime of service or death."

"And Snape was a Death Eater before he came to our side - he's got the Dark Mark to prove it," Ginny added

"Yeah, maybe he came to Dumbledore, telling him that he wanted to come back to the good side, I dunno, maybe Voldemort betrayed him somehow, or he got cold feet like Sirius' brother," Harry continued.

"So Dumbledore got him to be a spy for us!" Ginny said triumphantly. "That makes perfect sense!"

Ron still looked as though he would like to believe that Snape was evil, and Hermione looked thoughtfully sceptical, but Harry couldn't understand why they had never come to this conclusion before.

The four sat in silence for a while, until Hermione tentatively broke it. "Harry, you should come back with us," she said. "You're not safe staying here on your own."

Ginny looked as though she thought differently. "Dumbledore let him stay here, so it must be pretty safe," she pointed out.

"Yeah, I bet he's put loads of spells and enchantments all over the room!" Ron said excitedly, looking around as though he thought a spell might jump out at him.

"I want to stay here," Harry said firmly, glad that Ron and Ginny thought he was safe. If they thought he was safe, they were less likely to force him to stay with them.

"But I think you should come back with us anyway," Ginny insisted.

"Why?" Harry snapped. "So you can all keep an eye on me and make sure I'm being a good little boy and staying where I'm supposed to? Do you really think that I'm going to go looking for Voldemort?"

Ginny winced before answering. "Harry, this isn't about your habit to go looking for trouble. I just think that if you're left alone, you're being left to brood, and how can you be expected to stop mourning Sirius if you're moping around?"

Harry glared at her. "Maybe when you've lost your mum, your dad, your godfather _and_ watched someone be killed, you'll understand a bit better about needing to mourn."

Ginny glowered defiantly back at him, but Hermione spoke before she could retort. "Harry, we appreciate you need to mourn Sirius, but Ginny's right. You can't be left to brood. You need to get on with your mourning so that you can finish it and accept that Sirius is gone."

Harry sighed. He knew they were right, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. A part of him felt that he was entitled to mourn for as long as he liked, but he also knew that he had to stop mourning and start training - if he was going to defeat Voldemort, he was going to have to work a lot harder on his defence skills.

Grudgingly, he allowed his friends to help him pack his things, before they made their way to the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, where a blonde-haired woman was sitting, chatting animatedly to Lupin.

"Harry!" the blonde woman said when she saw the four of them.

It took Harry a moment to realise that this blonde woman was actually Tonks; however, any doubt was eliminated when Ginny and Hermione asked her to change her hair to the bubblegum-pink, spiky style that they loved. Tonks obliged and Lupin laughed.

"Little did I know when I offered to take these three to Diagon Alley, I was not only going to bump into Remus, but you too Harry!" Tonks then turned to Lupin, looking at him questioningly. "You've been most mysterious about what you were doing all day," she said, "any chance these mysterious activities involved Harry?"

Lupin looked guiltily back at her. "I'm afraid so," he confessed. "Now, why don't we all get back? I'm sure Molly will have a delicious tea prepared for us."

As Lupin made to go, Harry suddenly stopped.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Lupin asked concernedly, causing the others to turn to look at him.

Harry could not quite believe that he had only just realised where 'back' was. For some reason, he had simply assumed that it meant the Burrow, but there was no room for Tonks and Lupin there. But he couldn't face Headquarters, not just yet - there would be too many memories of Sirius, memories he wasn't yet ready for, as his episode with Snape had proved.

"Harry, you have to face Headquarters sooner or later," Hermione said, sensing what was wrong.

"Don't worry mate, we're here for you," Ron added.

"It'll be okay," Ginny persisted.

But Harry wasn't so sure. Could he really face Headquarters after so little time? Sirius had only been gone a few weeks and already they were trying to force him to face his death and his face the memories that would inevitably pervade Grimmauld Place. It was all too soon and too fast.


End file.
